rance, and your simplicity for allurement. But it's over-This house I no more shew my face in.

Miss Hard. I hope, sir, I have done nothing to disoblige you. I'm sure I should be very sorry to affront any gentleman who has been so polite, and said so many civil things to me. I'm sure I should be sorry [Pretending to cry.] if he left the family upon my account. I'm sure I should be sorry people said any thing amiss, since I have no fortune but my character.

Mar. [Aside.] By heaven, she weeps! This is the first mark of tenderness I ever had from a modest woman, and it touches me. [To her.] Excuse me, my lovely girl, you are the only part of the family I leave with reluctance. But, to be plain with you, the difference of our birth, fortune, and education, make an honourable connection impossible and I can never harbour a thought of bringing ruin upon one, whose only fault was being too lovely.

Miss Hard. [Aside. ] Generous man! I now begin to admire him. [To him.] But I'm sure my family is as good as Miss Hardcastle's, and though I'm poor, that's no great misfortune to a contented mind; and, until this moment, I never thought that it was bad to want fortune.

Mar. And why now, my pretty simplicity ? Miss Hard. Because it puts me at a distance from one, that, if I had a thousand pound, I would give it all to.

Mar. [Aside.] This simplicity bewitches me, so that, if I stay, I'm undone. I must make one bold effort, and leave her. [To her.] Your partiality in my favour, my dear, touches me most sensibly, and were I to live for myself alone, I could easily fix my choice; but I owe too much to the opinion of the world, too much to the autho: ity of a father, so that I can scarcely speak it-it affects me. Farewell. [Exit. Miss Hard. I never knew half his merit till now. He shall not go, if I have power or art to detain him. I'll still preserve the character in which I stoop'd to conquer, but will undeceive my papa, who, perhaps, may laugh him out of his resolution. Erit.

Enter TONY and Miss NEVILLE. Tony. Ay, you may steal for yourselves the next time, I have done my duty. She has got the jewels again, that's a sure thing; but she believes it was all a mistake of the servants.

Miss Nev. But, my dear cousin, sure you won't forsake us in this distress. If she in the least suspects that I am going off, I shall certainly be locked up, or sent to my aunt Pedigree's, which is ten times worse.

Tony. To be sure, aunts of all kinds are damn'd bad things. But what can I do? I have got you a pair of horses that will fly like Whistle jacket, and I'm sure you can't say but I have courted you nicely before her face. Here she comes; we must court a bit or two more, for fear she should suspect us. [They retire, and seem to fondle.

Enter Mrs HARDCASTLE.

Mrs Hard. Well, I was greatly fluttered, to he sure. But my son tells me it was all a mistake of the servants. I sha'n't be easy, however, till they are fairly married, and then let her keep her own fortune. But what do I see! Fondling together, as I'm alive! I never saw Tony so sprightly be fore. Ah! have I caught you, my pretty doves? What, billing, exchanging stolen glances, and broken murmurs. Ah!

Tony. As for murmurs, mother, we grumble a little now and then, to be sure. But there's no love lost between us.

Mrs Hard. A mere sprinkling, Tony, upon the flame, only to make it burn brighter.

Miss Nev. Cousin Tony promises to give us more of his company at home. Indeed he sha'n't leave us any more. It won't leave us, cousin Tony, will it?

Tony. O! It's a pretty creature. No, I'd sooner leave my horse in a pound, than leave you when you smile upon one so. Your laugh makes you so becoming.

Miss Nev. Agreeable cousin! who can help admiring that natural humour, that pleasant, broad, red, thoughtless, [Patting his cheek] ah! it's a bold face.

Mrs Hard. Pretty innocence !

Tony. I'm sure I always loved cousin Con's hazel eyes, and her pretty long fingers, that she twists this way and that, over the haspicholls, like a parcel of bobbins.

Mrs Hurd. Ah, he would charm the bird from the tree. I was never so happy before. My boy takes after his father, poor Mr Lumpkin, exactly. | The jewels, my dear Con., shall be yours incont nently. You shall have them. Isn't he a sweet boy, my dear? You shall be married to-morrow, and we'll put off the rest of his education, like Dr Drawsey's sermons, to a fitter opportunity.

Enter DIGGORY.

Dig. Where's the 'squire? I have got a letter for your worship.

Tony. Give it to my mamma. She reads all my letters first.

Dig. I had orders to deliver it into your own hands.

Tony. Who does it come from?

Dig. Your worship mun ask that o'the letter itself.

Tony I could wish to know though. [Turning the letter, und gazing on it.]

Miss Nev. [Aside.] Undone, undone ! A letter to him from Hastings. I know the hand. If my aunt sees it, we are ruined for ever. I'll keep ter employed a little if I can. [ To Mrs HARDCASTLE] But I have not told you, madam, of my cousin's smart answer just now to Mr Marlow. We so laughed-You must know, madam-This way a little, for he must not hear us. [They confer

Tony. [Still gazing.] A damn'd cramp piece of

penmanship as ever I saw in my life. I can read, your print-hand very well; but here there are such handles, and shanks, and dashes, that one can scarce tell the head from the tail. To Anthony Lumpkin, Esq. It's very odd, I can read the outside of my letters, where my own name is, well enough; but when I come to open it, it's all-buzz. That's hard, very hard: for the inside of the letter is always the cream of the correspondence.

Mrs Hard. Ha! ha! ha! Very well, very well. And so my son was too hard for the philosopher. Miss Nev. Yes, madam; but you must hear the rest, madam. A little more this way, or he may hear us. You'll hear how he puzzled him again. Mrs Hard. He seems strangely puzzled now himself, methinks.

Tony. [Sell gazing.] A damn'd up-and-down hand, as if it was disguised in liquor. [Reading.] Dear Sir. Ay, that's that. Then there's an M and a T, and an S, but whether the next be an izzard or an R, confound me, I cannot tell.

Mrs Hard. What's that, my dear? Can I give you any assistance?

Miss Nev. Pray, aunt, let me read it. Nobody reads a cramp hand better than I. [Twitching the letter from her.] Do you know who it is from?

Tony. Cann't tell, except from Dick Ginger, the feeder.

Miss Nec. Ay, so it is, [Pretending to read.] Dear 'squire, hoping that you're in health, as Í am at this present. The gentlemen of the Shakebag club has cut the gentlemen of the Goose-green quite out of feather. The odds-um-odd battleum-long fighting-um-here, here, it's all about cocks and fighting; it's of no consequence; here, put it up, put it up. [Thrusting the crumpled letter upon him.

Tony. But I tell you, Miss, it's of all the consequence in the world. I would not lose the rest of it for a guinea. Here, mother, do you make it out. Of no consequence? [Giving Mrs HARD

CASTLE the letter.

I

Mrs Hard. How's this! [Reads.] "Dear 'squire, I'm now waiting for Miss Neville, with a postchaise and pair, at the bottom of the garden; but I find my horses yet unable to perform the journey. expect you'll assist us with a pair of fresh horses, as you promised. Dispatch is necessary, as the hag (ay, the hag) your mother will otherwise suspect us. Yours, Hastings." Grant me patience. I shall run distracted! My rage chokes me!

Miss Nev. I hope, madam, you'll suspend your resentment for a few moments, and not impute to me any impertinence, or sinister design, that belongs to another.

Mrs Hurd. [Curtesying very low.] Fine-spoken madam, you are most miraculously polite and engaging; and quite the very pink of courtesy and circumspection-Madam! [Changing her tone.] And you, you great ill-fashioned oaf, with scarce sense enough to keep your mouth shut; were you too join'd against me? But I'll defeat all your plots in a moment. As for you, madam, since you

me.

have got a pair of fresh horses ready, it would be cruel to disappoint them. So, if you please, instead of running away with your spark, prepare, this very moment, to run off with me. Your old aunt Pedigree will keep you secure, I'll warrant You too, sir, may mount your horse, and guard us upon the way. Here, Thomas, Roger, Diggory. I'll shew you, that I wish you better than you do yourselves. {Exit. Miss Nev. So now I'm completely ruined. Tony. Ay, that's a sure thing. Miss Nev. What better could be expected from being connected with such a stupid fool, and after all the nods and signs I made him!

Tony. By the laws, Miss, it was your own cleverness, and not my stupidity, that did your busiYou were so nice and so busy with your Shakebags and Goose-greens, that I thought you could never be making believe.

ness.

Enter HASTINGS.

Hast. So, sir, I find by my servant, that you have shewn my letter, and betray'd us. Was this well done, young gentleman?

Tony. Here's another. Ask Miss there who betray'd you. Ecod, it was her doing, not mine.

Enter MARLOW.

Mar. So, I have been finely used here among you. Rendered contemptible, driven into ill-manners, despised, insulted, laugh'd at.

Tony. Here's another. We shall have old Bedlam broke loose presently.

Miss Nev. And there, sir, is the gentleman to whom we all owe every obligation.

Mar. What can I say to him! a mere booby, an idiot, whose ignorance and age are a protection. Hast. A poor contemptible booby, that would but disgrace correction.

Miss Nev. Yet with cunning and malice enough to make himself merry with all our embarrass

Mar. [To HASTINGS.] Was it well done, sir, to assist in rendering me ridiculous? To hang me out for the scorn of all my acquaintance? Depend upon it, sir, I shall expect an explanation.

Hust. Was it well done, sir, if you're upon that subject, to deliver what I entrusted to yourself to the care of another, sir?

Miss Nev. Mr Hastings, Mr Marlow, why will you increase my distress by this groundless dispute? I implore, I entreat you—

Enter Servant,

Serv. Your cloak, madam. My mistress is impatient.

Miss Nev. I come. Pray be pacified. If I leave you thus, I shall die with apprehension.

Enter Servant.

Serv. Your fan, muff, and gloves, madam. The horses are waiting.

Miss Nev. O, Mr Marlow! if you knew what a scene of constraint and ill-nature lies before me, I'm sure it would convert your resentment into pity. Mar. I'm so distracted with a variety of passions, that I don't know what I do. Forgive me, madam. George, forgive me. You know my hasty temper, and should not exasperate it.

Hast. The torture of my situation is my on

excuse.

Miss Nev. Well, my dear Hastings, if you hav that esteem for me that I think, that I am sure you have, your constancy for three years will but in crease the happiness of our future connectionIf

Mrs Hard. [Within.] Miss Neville! Constance, why Constance, I say.

Miss Nev. I'm coming. Well, constancy. Re member, constancy is the word. [Ex Hust. My heart, how can I support this! To b so near happiness, and such happiness!

Mar. (To TONY.] You see now, young gentle man, the effects of your folly What might be amusement to you, is here disappointment, and even distress.

Tony. [From a Reverie.] Ecod I have hit it. It's here. Your hands. Yours, and yours, my poor sulky. My boots there, ho! Meet me two hous hence at the bottom of the garden; and if you don't find Tony Lumpkin a more good-natured fellow than you thought for, I'll give you lease to take my best horse, and Bet Bouncer into the bar gain. Come along. My boots, ho! [Exeunt

SCENE I.-Continues. Enter HASTINGS and Servant. Hast. You saw the old lady and Miss Neville drive off, you say.

Serv. Yes, your honour. They went off in a post coach, and the young 'squire went on horseback. They're thirty miles off by this time.

Hast. Then all my hopes are over.

Serv. Yes, sir. Old Sir Charles is arrived. He and the old gentleman of the house have been laughing at Mr Marlow's mistake this half hour. They are coming this way.

Hast. Then I must not be seen. So now to my fruitless appointment at the bottom of the garden. This is about the time. [Exit.

Enter Sir CHARLES MARLOW and HARD

CASTLE.

Sir Char Why, Dick, will you talk of fortune to me? My son is possessed of more than a competence already, and can want nothing but a good and virtuous girl to share his happiness and increase it. If they like each other, as you say they do

Hard. If, man! I tell you they do like each other. My daughter as good as told me so. Sir Char. But girls are apt to flatter themselves, you know.

Hurd. I saw him grasp her hand in the warest manner myself; and here he comes to put you out of your ifs, I warrant him.

Enter MARLOW.

Mar. I come, sir, once more, to ask pardon for my strange conduct. I can scarce reflect on my insolence without confusion.

Sir Char. And the reserve with which I he treated all your advances.

suppose

Hard. And yet he might have seen something in me above a common innkeeper too.

Sir Char. Yes, Dick, but he mistook you for an uncommon innkeeper, ha! ha! ha!

Hard. Well, I'm in too good spirits to think of any thing but joy. Yes, my dear friend, this union of our families will make our personal friendships hereditary; and, though my daughter's fortune is

but small

the worse for it.

Mar. Sir, I shall be always proud of her approbation.

Hard. Approbation is but a cold word, Mr Marlow; if I am not deceived, you have something more than approbation thereabouts. You take me?

Mar. Really, sir, I have not that happiness. Hard. Come, boy, I'm an old fellow, and know what's what, as well as you that are younger. I know what has past between you; but mum.

Mar. Sure, sir, nothing has past between us but the most profound respect on my side, and

the most distant reserve on hers. You don't think, sir, that my impudence has been passed upon all the rest of the family?

Hard. Impudence! No, I don't say that-Not quite impudence Though girls like to be played with, and rumpled too sometimes. But she has told no tales, I assure you.

Mar. I never gave her the slightest cause. Hard. Well, well. I like modesty in its place well enough; but this is over acting, young gentleman. Your father and I will like you the better for it.

Mar. May I die, sir, if I ever

Hard. I tell you she don't dislike you; and, as I'm sure you like her

Mur. Dear sir-I protest, sir

Hard. I see no reason why you should not be joined as fast as the parson can tie you.

Mar. But hear me, sir→→→→

Hard. Your father approves the match; I admire it; every moment's delay will be doing mischief, so

Mar. But why don't you hear me? By all that's just and true, I never gave Miss Hardcastle the slightest mark of my attachment, or even the most distant hint to suspect me of affection. We had but one interview, and that was formal, modest, and uninteresting.

Hard. [Aside.] This fellow's formal, modest impudence is beyond bearing.

Sir Char. And you never grasped her hand, or any protestations?

made

Mar. As heaven is my witness, I came down in obedience to your commands. I saw the lady without emotion, and parted without reluctance. I hope you'll exact no further proofs of my duty, nor prevent me from leaving a house in which I suffer so many mortifications. [Exit. Sir Char. I'm astonished at the air of sincerity with which he parted.

Hard. And I'm astonished at the deliberate intrepidity of his assurance.

Sir Char. I dare pledge my life and honour upon

his truth.

Hard. Here comes my daughter, and I would stake my happiness upon her veracity.

Enter Miss HARDCASTLE,

Hard. Kate, come hither, child. Answer us sincerely, and without reserve; has Mr Marlow made you any professions of love and affection? Miss Hard. The question is very abrupt, sir; but, since you require unreserved sincerity, I think he has.

Hard. [To Sir CHARLES.] You see. Sir Char. And pray, madam, have you and son had more than one interview?

Miss Hard. Yes, sir, several.

Hard. (To Sir CHARLES.] You see.

my

Sir Char. But did he profess any attachment? Miss Hard. A lasting one.

Sir Char. Did he talk of love?

Miss Hard. Much, sir.

Sir Char. Amazing! And all this formally? Miss Hurd. Formally.

Hard. Now, my friend, I hope you are satisfied? Sir Char. And how did he behave, madam ? Miss Hard. As most profest admirers do: Said some civil things of my face, talked much of his want of merit, and the greatness of mine; mentioned his heart, gave a short tragedy speech, and ended with pretended rapture.

Sir Char. Now I'm perfectly convinced, indeed. I know his conversation among women to be mo̟dest and submissive. This forward, canting, ranting manner by no means describes him, and I'm confident he never sat for the picture.

Miss Hard. Then what, sir, if I should convince you to your face of my sincerity? If you and my papa, in about half an hour, will place yourselves behind that screen, you shall hear him declare his passion to me in person.

Sir Char. Agreed; and if I find him what you describe, all my happiness in him must have an {Exit.

end. Miss Hard. And if you don't find him what I describe--I fear my happiness must never have a beginning. [Exeunt

SCENE II. The Back of the Gar den.

Enter HASTINGS.

Hast. What an idiot am I, to wait here for a fellow, who probably takes a delight in mortifying me. He never intended to be punctual, and I'll wait no longer. What do I see? It is he, and perhaps with news of my Constance.

Enter TONY, booted and spattered.

Hast. My honest 'squire! I now find you a man of your word. This looks like friendship.

Tony. Ay, I'm your friend, and the best friend you have in the world, if you knew but all. This riding by night, by the bye, is cursedly tiresome. It has shook me worse than the basket of a stage

coach.

Hast. But how? Where did you leave your fellow-travellers? Are they in safety? Are they housed?

Tony. Five-and-twenty miles in two hours and a half is no such bad driving. The poor beasts have smoked for it: Rabbit me, but I'd rather ride forty miles after a fox, than ten with such

varment.

Hast. Well, but where have you left the ladies? I die with impatience.

Tony. Left them! Why where should I leave them, but where I found them?

Hast. This is a riddle.

Tony. Riddle me this then. What's that goes round the house, and round the house, and never touches the house?

Hast. I'm still astray.

Tony. Why that's it, mun. I have led them astray. By jingo, there's not a pond or slough within five miles of the house but they can tell the taste of.

Hust. Ha, ha, ha! I understand; you took then in a round, while they supposed themselves going